Bill visited the hospital the next evening, explaining that he had been called away to England on business. “We were called before a Crown commission,” he said. “Strictly a formality, but a command performance. Some of these people think they’re descended from the Tudors, so I can’t very well send a branch manager.”
“Have they figured out how the sauna happened to get locked?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he said without any sign of disappointment. “But we’re still digging. The hotel has a detective on it, and I’ve hired one of my own. Even the police are investigating. We’ll find out, and then heaven help whoever turns out to be at fault.”
Jane took a deep breath. “It shouldn’t be that much of a problem. Someone must know who had the key.”
“The matron swears it never left her hands. And there’s nothing in her background to suggest that she could have been careless with it. She has no ties to anyone shady who might have borrowed it. The police are checking out everyone who works in the place and all the women who were there that day. Remarkably uneventful lives, particularly the customers.”
“Is that it? Background checks?”
He shrugged. “That’s the way the police work. The hotel, on the other hand, is investigating the lock. They brought in the manufacturer and they’ve taken it apart half a dozen times. It seems that no matter how hard they slam the door, they can’t get it to lock by itself.”
“What about a duplicate key?”
“There’s one kept in the attendant’s desk, but it’s still there.”
“Couldn’t someone have taken it?”
“Sure,” he admitted. “If they knew it was there. But then why would they have bothered to put it back? Most people don’t even notice that there’s a lock on the door, and the attendant admits that she very often doesn’t bother to lock it at night. So that keeps bringing us back to the lock itself and how it might have been set accidentally.”
But he didn’t want her worrying. He would take care of the investigation. Her job was to get better so they could go back home. “Believe it or not, I’m even trying to clear a few days for us to get away together. Not right away, because when I get back I’ll have a lot of catching up to do. But in the next few months …”
They speculated on where they might go. He thought in terms of another sailing vacation, maybe down in New Zealand, where it would soon be spring. He enthused over the long stretches of windswept ocean among the islands and helped her visualize the wonders of the Great Barrier Reef.
Jane couldn’t tell him why she wasn’t excited by the prospect of lonely voyages over empty seas. It was ridiculous for many reasons, not the least being that he seemed so obviously in love with her. And yet he was the one person who had been around for all her “accidents.” Until there were some concrete explanations for pool motors that started themselves and dead-bolt locks that mysteriously closed, Jane would prefer places with lots of company.
She asked about her recovery. Everyone seemed pleased, but since she couldn’t talk to anyone in English, she had no information on her prognosis. “You could go home tomorrow,” he said cheerfully. “They just want to watch you for another few days.”
“Let’s go home tomorrow,” she said. “I don’t like being watched.” He argued a bit, but then agreed that he would take her home after one more day. He stayed late, kissing her lovingly before he left. Jane fell asleep as his footsteps were still echoing in the hall.
When she stirred again, it was the middle of the night. The room was dark except for the streak of light from the open door and the green glow that came from the monitors over her head. There was a nurse in her room, a tall woman standing near the dresser, assembling some sort of medical equipment. Jane decided that she didn’t want to exchange pleasantries in a language she didn’t understand. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
She heard soft footsteps as the nurse moved around the room. Then she heard her door click shut. Jane opened her eyes, assuming that the nurse had left and closed the door behind her, but she was still there, now crossing the foot of the bed as she went to the window. When she tipped the blinds, the last bit of ambient light vanished from the room. Now, even with her eyes open, Jane could follow only the woman’s footsteps.
She seemed to go back to the dresser and pause there. Jane heard a tinkle of glass that sounded like something being stirred. She raised her head from the pillow. “What now?” she asked.
The soft voice responded in French, but with just a few words instead of the usual happy banter. Then, in English, the nurse said, “It’s just your medication.”
She speaks English, Jane thought. They finally found one I can understand. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “You’re new!”
“No, just back from my holiday.”
“Great! Will you be staying here from now on?”
“I don’t think so,” said the voice from the darkness. She was directly at the foot of the bed, and Jane could now make out her silhouette in the glow of the monitors. She saw something glisten in the nurse’s hand.
“What’s that for?” she asked. As the nurse stepped closer, she could see a hypodermic needle.
“An anticoagulant. To stop blood clots.”
The monitors illuminated the woman’s chest. Jane saw the lapels of a jacket and the flash of jewelry around her neck. “I haven’t been getting any shots. Are you sure this is for me?”
The nurse took Jane’s hand and lifted her arm. Jane noticed the long, painted fingernails. She looked up as half the woman’s face came into the green glow. There was a flash of recognition. She knew this woman. She had seen her before, not here in the hospital but somewhere else. Then she caught a glimpse of the needle, aimed at her bare shoulder.
The woman in the bank, she remembered. Jane couldn’t see her eyes, but mentally she could fill in the dark sunglasses that had masked the top of the woman’s face and the scarf that hid her hair. Selina! Selina Royce!